“Something of that, perhaps. But it’s clear you haven’t been idle of late. Did you write any of those stories at Knightswell?” “One.” “Did you show it to Mrs. Clarendon?” She shook her head. Mr. Meres drummed upon his desk; there was an expression of pain on his forehead. But he dismissed it with a sigh. “By-the-bye, this is a first manuscript?” “Yes.” “Never dare to show me one again! You are to copy the new story twice,--you understand?” “Copying is terrible work.” “So is every effort that leads to anything. You are beginning an apprenticeship; don’t think you can carve masterpieces straight from the block, or dash on frescoes without cartoon. Now shake hands with me and go. And Ada, if you can find it in your heart to do me a great kindness-----” “Would I not?” “Well, I can’t ask it now. Some evening when we have talked the fire low, and our tongues are loosened. To work! To work!” CHAPTER VII. In the first week of February, Mrs. Clarendon spent a couple of days with the Bruce Pages at Hanford. Among a vast accumulation of county and general news which Mrs. Bruce Page emptied forth for Isabel’s benefit, there was mention of an accident that had befallen Sir Miles Lacour. Whenever, as had lately been the case, there was skating weather, Sir Miles assembled large parties of friends to enjoy this pastime on a fine piece of water that graced his grounds. One evening, when there was torchlight merriment on the ice, Sir Miles had somehow managed to catch a fall; it would have been nothing, but that unfortunately there came immediately behind him a sleigh in which a lady was being whirled along by a couple of skaters. The metal came in contact with the prostrate baronet’s head, and he had remained for an hour in unconsciousness. However, he appeared to be doing well, and probably there would be no further result. “Do you know,” said Mrs. Bruce Page, “I ran up to town the other day, and took an opportunity of seeing the boy Vincent.” “Did you?” said Isabel indifferently. “Shall I tell you something that I found out? But perhaps you have already got at the explanation of that affair?” “No, I know nothing about it. It really does not concern me.”